Only Hope
by Search.For.The.Light
Summary: AU. In a world where hybrids are pets and not always bought for the right reason, cat-hybrid Kurt is used to being on the streets. But when a mysterious boy offers him everything he dreams of, can he bring himself to trust him?
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, guys! See, I haven't died. I've been fighting some writers block lately, and this kitty!Kurt drabble is what came out of it. I hope you like it and if there's enough call for it, I might continue more in this 'verse. And never fear, the next installment of ICY is coming up!**

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Sometimes, like now, Kurt can see the young man watching him.

He doesn't know why. He knew that there was nothing special about him, nothing important. His hair and fur near his ears was matted and dirty, and he had given up trying to clean his tail. He was thin, scrawny even, because not everyone was kind to a hybrid with no collar. And with the current rain seeping through the roof of the box he's currently huddled under, he knew that he was a mess.

And yet the boy stared.

He stared at him through honey coloured eyes that held no trace of the mocking that many held. Instead, unless Kurt was delusional (which may be true, since he hadn't eaten in over two days…), it held sympathy and concern. And every time he saw the boy, something would appear. Sometimes it would be the scarf he currently wore around his neck. Sometimes it'd be food, hot steamed meat buns that made him feel warm and full inside. The very first time it was a toy mouse, something that was still clutched to his chest, wet and dirty and yet he couldn't bear to part with it because it was the first kindness someone had shown him since his father had died six months ago.

But today, there was something different about the boy. For one, the boy didn't have anything in his hands, and Kurt couldn't help feel the overwhelming feeling of disappointment that he had been trying so hard to avoid. The boy was standing straighter, his umbrella tight in his fist, his face – only a couple years younger than his seventeen year old self – was somber. Kurt couldn't take his eyes off of him. Even though he was moving closer, not stopping his usual foot away to put down whatever he was usually holding. Instead, he knelt down in front of him, and a voice that was smooth and gentle like the honey his eyes reminded Kurt of, he spoke.

"Come home with me."

Kurt could feel himself bristle, the hair on the back of his neck standing up, lips pulling back in a slight snarl. He's had guys trying to pick him up before, because everyone knows what cat hybrids are used for. Everyone knows about their _heat_ and the fact that are primary used as sex objects, and that's it. Old men love them, young women prize then, and no one sees him. He couldn't believe that this boy would say something like this and, when the boy brings his hand closer, to adjust the scarf or touch his ears, he lashes out with his elongated nails, catching the boy across the hand.

Kurt expected a blow. He expected anger. Yelling. He expected… _something _to counteract his bad behaviour. He even flinched back in preparation for the blow. Instead, a soft hand that smelled vaguely of cinnamon and coffee tipped his head up, making him look into honey coloured eyes.

"It's okay, my name's Blaine. I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to bring you out of the rain. I finally got my parents to agree to take you in. I have food and a warm bed for you."

Kurt stared at the boy – _Blaine – _as his ears flicked. Home? Food? Warm bed? His stomach rumbled, reminding him of how long it had been since he had eaten, and the very _idea _of warmth made him let out a tiny mewl of longing. He wanted so badly to trust Blaine, to grab what Blaine was offering him, but he heard the terrible things that were said about owners. Abuse, starvation, even rape… He was already so broken that he didn't think he would stand that.

"You don't have to stay, if you don't want, kitty. You can leave at any time. I just want to help." Blaine said soothingly, reaching out again with the hand that Kurt had scratched.

Kurt didn't say anything for a moment, before, his voice hoarse from little use, he croaked out, "Kurt."

"What?"

Kurt swallowed a couple of times, easing out from the box, edging closer to Blaine. "My name. It's Kurt."

Blaine's face broke out into a smile that made something inside of him twist, and it convinced him to place his hand inside of Blaine's.

"Nice to meet you, Kurt. I promise, I just want to help."

Kurt's ears flicked slightly as he studied the young man. His face muscles protested the sudden movement as he smiled softly, nodding. "I think I believe you."

Maybe he didn't know what he was doing. Maybe this was all a trick and Blaine was really going to hurt him. Maybe he was going to only end up hurt and end up where he had been found. Maybe this was a stupid idea.

He could hope, however, that Blaine was true.

Honestly?

Blaine was his only hope.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to everyone who favourited/reviewed/followed this story! I'm still kind of having writer's block with ICY, so this is what came out of it! Hope everyone likes it, and please, drop me a review to tell me what you think or what you'd like to see! Thank you so much! **

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The Anderson house was different. It's not a good different, or a bad different, really. Just… different. For one thing, it is huge, much bigger than the house he remembers staying in before his parents died. Blaine explained as they walked there that he had a whole wing to himself, and since his parents weren't home very often, he was usually left alone. Kurt privately thought it was weird for a teenager to have a whole wing to himself, but, hey, it really wasn't his spot to complain, now was it?

Another thing that was different was the… emptiness of it. Oh, it was complete with its Victorian design and obviously expensive furnishing. Portraits of the family were hanging, equally measured and spaced, on the wall, and a piano sat in the corner of the large living room. But there wasn't any personal design in it. There was no warmth that Kurt remembered from his childhood, before his mom and dad had passed away. There wasn't a sign that the house was even lived in, except for a worn spot in the carpet in the hallway leading to the kitchen where a bare footed Blaine was walking down, pointing out where the bathrooms and other such rooms were located.

Kurt stayed silence as Blaine chattered, not because he had nothing to say, but because he didn't really know what to say. He was kind of in shock, if he was perfectly honest with himself. Only a couple hours ago he had resigned himself to spending the rest of his life begging for scraps in his cardboard box, and now here was Blaine talking about fixing up the spare bedroom down the hall for him and asking him what kind of soup he liked better. Kurt could only blink at him, feeling a burning, prickling sensation in the back of his eyes, wrapping his arms around himself as his tail flicked behind him nervously.

"Am I talking too much? Oh, I am, aren't I? I'm sorry, Kurt, I didn't mean to, I'm just so excited that you're here that I kind of forgot that I might overwhelm you with my babbling. I do it a lot, I can try and stop it, seriously, just tell me when to stop, I'll stop, I don't want to freak you out or scare you or anything, honest, I don –"

Kurt had a feeling that Blaine would literally just keep speaking in that fast, earnest, sad voice without taking a breath until he passed out, so he cut in with a soft, "You're excited for me to be here? Why?"

Blaine looked down at the pot of soup (tomato, if Kurt's stomach and nose were right), stirring it with the wooden spoon as he mumbled, "Well, yeah, I am. Like I said I've been wanting you to stay here for a long time now, and I just…" Those amber eyes flickered up to meet Kurt's glasz eyes, before going back to the tomato soup. "Your eyes."

"What?"

"Your eyes. They, um… called to me. You just looked so sad… so miserable… it made my heart hurt. Kurt, you… I don't care if you're a hybrid or human or whatever… No one deserves to be out on the streets. Especially with winter coming."

Kurt didn't really have a plan when it came to winter. He knew that there was no way he could stay out on the streets of Lima in the dead of winter and expect to survive – the winter nights sometimes got down to the negatives and Kurt wasn't some _dog_ who could generate massive amounts of heat. The homeless shelters usually weren't safe for hybrids – too many grabby old men who wanted a cat hybrid for certain reasons Kurt couldn't bear thinking about – and he didn't even bother to consider the pet stores. He was still a _person_, not an animal, and he refused to be bought by one.

But he hadn't entertained the idea that someone would help him. Especially not this earnest, curly haired boy looking at him pleadingly, who was fidgeting in his spot. This boy who was offering his home to someone he didn't know, who was willing to give him a _bed_ (he could only dream longingly of something softer than concrete) and give him warm meals and a _bath._ Kurt could probably be making a mistake, but a cat normally has good instincts, and his were saying to trust this teenager.

So, after swallowing hard a couple times, Kurt said, "Thank you. For—for everything. For the food you gave me, this scarf…" He buried his nose in the dirty fabric of the scarf, having refused to take it off when they entered. "And now this. It means so much to me… you – Blaine, you probably saved my life, honestly. I mean it, I probably would've frozen to death or –or gotten hypothermia or…"

Kurt's ramblings were cut off by strong arms being wrapped around his waist, and for a moment, he went totally stiff, wondering in a panicked manner if he had been wrong about Blaine. But then he realized that it was just a _hug. _Blaine was _hugging_ him. His ears burned again and this time he didn't bother to fight back to the tears as he slowly wrapped his arms around the shorter boy's waist and pressing closer, inhaling the cinnamon and mint scent that was Blaine. One of Blaine's hands combed through his dirty hair as he made a soft shhing sounds. For a moment, they didn't say anything, just held each other and Kurt let himself feel safe and warm.

When Kurt pulled away, ears flicking in embarrassment for breaking down in a near strangers arms, his cheeks pooling red, Blaine simply smiled at him. "You never have to thank me, Kurt. You deserve a home and warmth just as much as I do. Now, tell me, do you like toast with your soup or do you want me to make some grilled cheese sandwiches?"


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm stunned by the response to this! So here's a mini update. I'm sorry about the length, but you guys get cuteness? Reviews are always awesome!**

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The first night Kurt slept in the Anderson house, he had more or less collapsed into the warm and oh so comfortable bed that Blaine had shown him to and passed out. It had been ages since he had a real bed, and the hybrid was lulled to sleep by the soft mattress and fluffy pillows before he had so much as taken off his shoes. In the background he heard Blaine chuckle and felt a warm weight of the covers being settled on top of him, but all was fuzzy as he knew no more.

The next day was a school day, so Blaine was out of the house most of the day. Kurt had been uncomfortable with the idea at first, before Blaine reassured him that his parents wouldn't be home for another month and that he could make himself at home. Kurt spent the day exploring (really, did one house really need four bathrooms, an indoor swimming pool, and a mini arcade?) and napping in the window seat in his room. He was woken up when Blaine came home around four, who explained that he had been at practice for his show choir. It was a rather quiet evening, just the two of them eating soup and getting to know each other as it rained outside.

Kurt found out that Blaine was indeed a year younger, at age sixteen, and that he had lived in Westerville all his life. He went to some fancy all boys school that he vaguely remembered his Dad talking about. Blaine had a wide array of musical favourites, spanning from Broadway to P!nk to Mozart. He was good at football, too, something that made him smile sadly. A couple of times he found himself smiling, wishing that his Dad was still alive to see this. Especially when he found out that Blaine was _gay_, and quite open about it, something that surprised him. He hadn't known there was any other out guys in what seemed like the entire state. Kurt wanted to ask more about it, but there was something painful in those beautiful eyes that prevented him from saying anything.

The both of them went to bed late that night, Blaine in an adorable Harry Potter pajama set and Kurt in a pair of sweats borrowed from Blaine. He'd never tell the curly haired boy this, but his scent was comforting, and he couldn't help but discreetly sniff it as they went to their respective rooms. Kurt's room was two doors down from Blaine's, and both lingered by the doors.

"Well… hope you sleep well. Tomorrow we'll go shopping, since my clothes are a wee bit short on you." Blaine chuckled as both of them looked at the good four inches his arms stuck out of the sleeves. "Sweet dreams, Kurt."

"You too," Kurt was inexplicitly shy because of the warm smile Blaine shot him, and once inside the room, he rested against the door waiting for his heart to stop pounding.

His sleep that night was strangely fitful, filled the memory of cold days, cruel words, and insecurities coming back to haunt him. In his dream he saw Blaine turn his back on him, of blows coming from those guitar calloused hands, of biting insults from those soft and pink lips. When he woke up crying, he had found that his nails had dug claw shaped holes in the blanket and that he was shaking. The darkness of the room, even with his night vision, seemed too dark, the shadows too dense, and he couldn't breathe. He could hear Blaine's even breaths in the room next door, and he just –

He didn't know if he was a fool, but he needed –

_Blaine._

* * *

Blaine really didn't know what woke him up. For a moment he stared befuddled up at his ceiling, adjusting the pillows behind his head. It wasn't the storm, he usually slept better when it was raining, and the room was a perfect temperature, so he really couldn't figure out what brought him out of a sound sleep. At least, not until he heard the faint rapping on his door.

Blaine swore he had never moved so fast in his entire life. Leaping out of bed (and only stumbling slightly when he got tangled up in the blankets) he nearly yanked the door off its hinges. There stood a terrified looking Kurt, tail curled around one of his legs, his ears flat against his skull. Blaine opened his mouth to say something, but a crack of lightning that lit up the room, followed by a rumble of thunder, sent the catboy from the entrance and into his arms. For a moment, he didn't know what to do with himself, still a bit sleep stupid and surprised that Kurt initiated the contact.

Then his brain caught up with his body and realized that Kurt was _crying_ and shaking, and his arms tightened around the brunette boy. "Hey, you're okay, what's wrong?"

Kurt let out a soft sob whispering, "It's stupid, I know, but I had a nightmare, and the storm and – and I'm sorry to bother you, but I really – can I stay? Please?"

Blaine was taken aback by the request, but looking into those glasz eyes, he knew he couldn't say no. Nor did he _want_ to. Not when he could see the fear of rejection there, or the fear. Without saying a word, he intertwined their fingers, tugging him into his bed. Kurt curled up into a tiny ball as soon as they were settled, away from Blaine, which made him frown.

"You can… come closer. If you want. When I was little and afraid of the storms, I'd pull a _Sound of Music_ and crawl into bed with my brother. We'd end up singing that song… oh how does it go…" Blaine was rambling, he knew, but he didn't know how else to make Kurt feel better.

Kurt's words were so soft that he almost missed them. "_Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens…"_

Encouraged, Blaine sang softly, "_Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens… brown paper packages all tied up with strings… these are a few of my favourite things."_

As they sang the song, Kurt uncurled slightly, soon edging closer, his ears pricked up. His voice mesmerized Blaine, pure and floating above his own voice, and before the two of them knew it, they were finishing the song and giggling. Tentatively, Kurt reached out and Blaine took his hand with his own, smiling gently.

"Better?"

Shy, Kurt nodded, ducking his head to slowly, hesitantly, rest his head above Blaine's heart. Blaine fought to keep his body from reacting to closeness of another boy in his bed, and he couldn't help how his breathing hitched. Berating himself mentally – Kurt needed a friend! – Blaine wrapped his arm carefully around him, willing to pull back at any moment. Instead, a soft sigh escaped his new friend.

"Can I – "

"Stay the night? Absolutely." Blaine cut the unnecessary question off with a smile, brushing hair carefully away from his forehead. Kurt's eyes were already drooping, a yawn showing slightly pointed teeth. "Sleep, Kurt."

"Okay." Kurt's voice was slightly muffled by his face being pressed against Blaine's shirt. "Blaine?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for saving me… And goodnight."

Blaine listened to the soft snores next to him, stunned by the words as his heart lurched. Oh, things would get more complicated than he expected if he couldn't get his willful heart to obey him, that's for sure…

Needless to say, Blaine didn't get much sleep that night.


End file.
